The 2012 Retrospective

The time has come to look back over the past year, pointing with pride, viewing with alarm, shuddering with fear and loathing. It was a mixed bag, almost more so than most years. People died that I was quite fond of. Others came down with grave illnesses. We had dreadful storms. The Lambertville water grew as foul as anything I've ever experienced coming out of a tap. They'll fix it on January 13 of next year, they claim. Don't hold your breath. Or do. The smell is still awful.

The canal bank, ravaged by Hurricane Sandy

On the other hand, my candidate won the election, and if you were unhappy about that I can only hope that things won't go as badly for you as you fear they will. In other good news, St. Andrews Lambertville, my little Episcopal church, has made such strides with its music program that we are singing Bach cantatas in German, with a small pickup orchestra, and we sound pretty good. In fact we sing so much in German these days that if you were to wander in off the street you'd think you were in a Lutheran church. Which is perfectly appropriate, come to think of it, since the Episcopalians have been in full communion with the Lutherans for years.

I got a flu shot, which is a plus, since I had no reaction to it whatever and in fact forgot about it right away. I finished writing MONKEYSTORM, quite an amusing book. Look for it soon. Also on the plus side, my kitchen was spared the annual infestation of meal moths that causes me to have to throw out all the flour, rice, corn meal, waffle mix, and in a really bad year baking soda, every September. (Imagine laying eggs in a box of baking soda and expecting your offspring to thrive.) So when I was forced to throw out everything in the refrigerator and freezer on the third day of the power outage from Hurricane Sandy, I at least had some flour and corn meal, not that we had any way to cook anything.

Furthermore the world didn't end. That was a definite plus. I wouldn't have said I was paying any attention to the Mayan apocalypse until I went to write down a doctor's appointment for next January on the calendar we keep on the refrigerator door. There wasn't one for next year. I forgot to buy a refill. Or maybe I secretly believed I wouldn't need it.

In any case, have a very happy new year. Stay well. We will try to do the same.

Kate Gallison

Sandy Blasted, a Photo Essay

Whole Foods in Union Square was packed with people as Sandy approached.

After the storm barreled through, the streets of

blacked-out Lower Manhattan were deserted,

All stores, restaurants, etc. were closed.

Above 42nd Street, where the lights did not go out,

it was business as usual.  A refugee from downtown

could eat a gorgeous meal, if she was willing to walk

three and half miles each way to get to it.

Power companies from all along the Eastern seaboard sent their employees
to help New York get its citizens back into the 21st Century.  The visiting
 workers marshaled in Union Square.

The National Guard came to help, too.  All along Park Avenue, one could
see military vehicles, many painted in desert camouflage and guardsmen in
fatigues.

Though the power was off for almost a full week, five hours after it
 came back on, the first store to open in our area  was the venerable
 and  incomparable Strand Bookstore--at 9 AM on a Sunday morning.

With the Sanitation Department stretched to its limit trying to clean up in
 devastated neighborhoods in Queens, Brooklyn and Staten island, the city
stopped picking up recyclables until further notice.  As of November 15th, they are still piling up. 

By Tuesday, November 13th, life was so back to normal, that four stalwart
mystery writers along with their moderator were able to present a panel
at the Mid-Manhattan Branch of the New York Public Library.  Let to Right:
Julia Pomeroy, Jon McGoran, Lucy Burdette, Dirk Robertson, and your reporter.

 Annamaria Alfieri